


it'll be okay

by deadratz



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29392458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadratz/pseuds/deadratz
Summary: One of Hannibal and Will's dogs reaches the end, and Hannibal and Will comfort each other through this loss.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94





	it'll be okay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maniacstreett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maniacstreett/gifts).



> This hurt to write, but it's based on my own experiences with losing my dogs, the conversations I've had surrounding it, and the things I would tell other people who have also lost, or are losing, a pet.

It really never gets easier. Having dogs, watching them grow, then watching them go. Will has never gotten used to it. He’s had dogs for his entire adult life. He has seen his fair share of them move on, but it always hurts. Even knowing the dog is better off, is going to be at peace, free from their current pain. It causes a tightness in his chest like no other. 

After the fall, Will had to leave all of his companions behind, knowing it wasn’t worth the risk to go back and retrieve them. Hannibal offered, but Will refused. 

They found Cliff, a dirty golden retriever, right after settling into their new home in France. He was weak and starving and Hannibal didn’t say a single word about how dirty he was. Will thought he would be in it alone, but Hannibal never strayed from his side the entire time they nursed Cliff back to health. He was on the older side when they found him, and Will fell in love with him fast. 

Over the next few years, they collected a few more strays, but Cliff always held such a special place in both of their hearts as their first dog together. Will was always alone, nothing but dogs to be his friend, but now he has Hannibal, too. 

Several years after they’ve settled, Hannibal comes home from the market and can’t find Will in the house. He calls out, but no answer. He figures Will is out at his stream, or on a walk with the dogs. But all of the dogs come running when Hannibal makes it into the kitchen. All of the dogs except Cliff. 

Hannibal saw the dog’s health deteriorating over the last few weeks. Such a quick thing that happened seemingly out of nowhere. An old dog. It happens. The vet didn’t find anything wrong with him that could be fixed, but said it would be soon. Hannibal held Will’s hand in the vet's office when they were told. 

Now, Hannibal assumes the worst. 

He looks out through the kitchen window and sees Will sitting in the grass under a tree. Cliff’s favorite tree to sit under. In front of Will, the dog lays, and Hannibal can see his labored breathing, Will stroking his fur, saying something to him. 

“Darling?” Hannibal calls from the door. 

Will looks up, tears streaking his face and Hannibal immediately goes toward him, sits down on the ground, not worrying about his suit getting dirty. 

“It’s going to be soon,” Will says. He’s trying to keep his voice steady, trying to get the words out without them catching on a sob. It doesn’t work. He buries his face in Hannibal’s chest while he continues to pet Cliff. Will’s hands trail over the dog’s ribs. 

Too visible, rising and falling, with a wheeze coming out on each breath. Cliff stopped eating days ago, only drinks a tiny bit of water before he needs to lay back down again. Will wonders if they should have put him down before it got this far. 

But Cliff is comfortable, his dads sitting with him, both petting him softly and whispering to him. 

Will can’t stop crying, choking on sobs while he whispers, “It’s okay, buddy. I know.” Over and over again. 

Hannibal holds Will tight as he shakes. A tear slips from his own eyes, seeing his husband in so much pain, soothing their dying dog. Hannibal has never felt emotions like the normal person, and Will always feels enough for the both of them, but this is different. This hurts.

After a few minutes, Will clears his throat, then takes a shaky breath and looks at Hannibal. 

“I know it’s almost time,” Will says. “I know, I can feel it, that this is it, that he won’t be here when we wake up, and I can’t explain how I know, but I do.”

And Hannibal knows exactly what he means. There’s something about this that feels so final, but he can’t explain why. All he can do is cup Will’s cheek and kiss his forehead. 

“He has been our friend for years,” Hannibal starts. “And it’s hard to see him so fragile and weak. But we both know he will be at peace soon. It does not mean much to hear it, but I hope it does provide some comfort knowing that.”

Will just nods and bites his lip, looking down at the dog. He can’t even lift his head up to look at Will, but his tail gives the smallest wag and Will starts sobbing again. 

Hannibal rubs his back with one hand, scratches Cliff’s ears with the other. 

“He knows how loved he has always been,” Hannibal whispers. “He knows we have both loved him as he has loved us in return, and that is all we can hope for. We gave him a good life, Will.”

“I know,” Will whispers. It does not make it any easier. But he’s always been alone for this type of thing. “It still fucking sucks.”

“I know, my love,” Hannibal whispers. “Should we take him inside?”

Will nods and stands, then Hannibal carefully picks the dog up. He does it with so much ease, and not just because he’s used to carrying more weight, but because Cliff has lost so much, has become so weak and small again. 

Will rubs the dogs ears while he lays limp in Hannibal’s arms, too weak to fight back or squirm like he used to so often. That sets Will off again, sobbing as he walks back to their house and opens the door for Hannibal.

Hannibal sets Cliff down in his favorite bed, and Will goes upstairs to his and Hannibal’s room, gathering their blankets and pillows. When he comes down, Hannibal is sprawled on the floor, the rest of the dogs surrounding them. All the dogs know too, and they whine and lick at Cliff’s face. Will watches from the door, then brings all of their bedding and lays it out on the floor. 

Both men spend the night laying with Cliff, one on each side of the dog, falling asleep with their hands clasped together over Cliff’s body. 

In the morning, Hannibal wakes first, his hand still tangled with Will’s, but Cliff is no longer breathing beneath them. Hannibal takes a deep breath, then wakes Will up with a kiss to his head. 

“Is he gone?” Will whispers, voice tight. 

“He is,” Hannibal responds. He rubs Will’s hand with his thumb. “I’m sorry, love.”

“I am too,” Will whispers. “I know you loved him.”

“I did. I do,” Hannibal responds. He says, with a quiet laugh, “I remember the day we found him. Disgusting thing, but that look in your eyes. I can never deny you a thing.”

Will laughs quietly, too. “He was gross, wasn’t he?”

“Very. And let me just say, when you suggested we name him Cliff, I had half a mind to leave you and turn myself back in,” Hannibal says. “I’m glad I didn’t.”

Will feels somewhat better, remembering the good times, the beginning. He knows it’s not good to dwell on the time when Cliff was sick, not to dwell on how cold he feels under Will’s hand. Better to think about how peaceful he looks now, free of the pain that riddled his aging body. To think of all the times they took him for a walk, took him down to the stream and watched him try to catch fish with his teeth. 

God, Will’s going to miss him, and he’s going to think about him every single day for the rest of his life, just as he thinks of all the dogs he’s lost in the past. But he knows it’s going to be okay. 


End file.
